Vintage gags in Vine's yard

Wednesday 25 October 2006 23:00 BST

Tim Vine can bring a smile to the face of the most committed curmudgeon.

Filling a soulless hall with laughter is not easy, Tim Vine just makes it look that way. Armed with silly props, stupid one-liners and preposterous wordplay-laden songs, he can bring a smile to the face of the most committed curmudgeon.

While the humour appears simple, it requires considerable craft. From the moment he enters sporting a punk wig ("The last of the Mohicans") to the moment he leaves having been briefly joined by a pink hippo pointing at flags (don't ask...), Vine is the living embodiment of a lean, mean comedy machine.

Every action is geared towards clean-cut giggles. Like a comedy excavator, he unearths hidden meanings in daily language: "Exit signs. They're on the way out."

Who would have thought that trying to land a Biro behind one's ear could be so amusing? It helps that Vine looks funny, mixing Jacques Tati's angularity with Tommy Cooper's amiable shuffling.

There are occasional over-familiar gags - Vine is the third comedian I've recently heard mention selling their flat ("the landlord was furious") - but this is a minor gripe about a show that oozes infectious inclusivity.